No Peace For The Damned
by musicjunkiedaydreamer
Summary: Whoever had sliced the body was in a hurry to get rid of it. The edges of the cuts indicated that they were done under an intensely emotional state. It lacked artistry, or maybe he should say that it was void of passion and purpose other than disposing of the body. So different from the painting. "Already so intriguing and I haven't even met you yet. Who are you really, Aven?
1. Chapter 1: Blank Canvas

Disclaimer: I do not own AHS or any of its characters. I merely play with them for my entertainment.

A/N: Hi everyone. This whole story is based off a fan art portrait of Dr. Thredson I saw online. This is the first time I ever write something publicly and I must admit, I feel nervous. There are many talented writers on this site and I hope I can do it some justice. Respectful constructive criticism is welcome. Anyways, on with the chapter! Hope you like it, enjoy! :)

She was in hell, Rebecca was certain of it. How many days had passed since she had been incarcerated at Briarcliff? A week perhaps? Give or take a day or two. It was difficult to keep track of time when confined to solitary. Not without the aid of light, natural or artificial, to mark the passing of the days. No matter, she would find out soon enough.

Rebecca would've actually preferred prison to this. True, had she gone directly to prison she would had faced a certain death sentence, but at least she would had been granted far more freedom. Interaction with other souls and she definitely would have been allowed to keep her beloved sketchbooks and charcoals, to keep her sane until that fateful date with the electric chair arrived.

She was allowed no such luxury in this shithole. Briarcliff was a nightmare and Rebecca supposed that was the point. To deprive her of human contact until she became had no one to keep her company here but her deranged thoughts.

Yes, she was doomed to rot in here without anyone interesting enough for her to dissect or offer her intelligent conversation. Without her precious sketchbook to immortalize their essence, and more importantly, to maintain her inner demons subdued.

The entire cell reeked of human waste, vomit, humidity and mold. Were her arms not bound by the straightjacket she would've covered her nose against the putrid smell to calm down the nausea. The first night she had spent here, it had proven to be too much for her to handle and she vomited on the floor. The orderlies never cleaned it. Even though she was not able to see a thing due to the pitch black darkness in the room, Rebecca still looked around the cell. As if to try and make out her surroundings. After a while, she simply sighed defeatedly. '_If I'm not insane already, I will definitely lose my mind in this place'. _

Rebecca managed to overhear the orderlies' conversation after they locked her cell. She was scheduled to meet with her appointed pshychiatrist today. His name was Dr. Thredson, if she heard correctly. That last piece of knowledge made her frown. Her court appointed psychriatrist was male. Men always sided with one another, and without proper evidence to prove that she had killed that motherfucker in self-defense, he would undoubtedly believe _their_ side of the story over hers. Rebecca scoffed '_And I'd do it again too, the bastard deserved it_'.

Her future laying in the hands of a man made her sick to her stomach. However she had to face reality, and the fact is, that right now, this Dr. Thredson was one of the most important people in her life. Aside from her lawyer, he was the only one with sufficient authority to persuade the courts into sentencing her to death, institutionalization or hopefully gaining back her freedom.

She considered her options, meditating on the best strategy to implement. If she played the crazy card she'll waste the best years of her life in this place. Yet, if she told the truth she would fry in the electric chair.

'_You need to show him, only then he will see_...' A soothing voice advised her, she quickly shot down that suggestion. "Shut up!" She hissed sharply aloud. Her gift was the very thing that got her into trouble constantly since she was a young girl. People never liked to have their dirty secrets exposed. One of the first lessons she learned about life was that, people were capable of anything just to ensure their skeletons stayed deeply hidden in the closet. Rebecca was able to break through people's facade and see at their core. It was the reason why her abusive grandmother married her off, to get rid of her. It was the reason why she was in her current predicament.

She would not be able to control her reaction and if the doctor had any compromising secrets to hide, he would most likely react the same way the others did...by trying to permanently silence her. He'd lock her up, disacredit her or worse. No, the doctor couldn't know the truth. '_He won't believe you if you don't. How will you find the evidence to incriminate Jack otherwise?'_

Much to her annoyance and dismay, the cackling voice inside her head was right. The only way to turn him into a believer of her "gift" was to show him. By now, Jack must've gotten rid of most of the evidence she had gathered...except for one little thing...

A clanking noise interrupted her musings. Ah, good. The orderlies had come to take her see the doctor. She sincerely hoped she would get to her appointment on time. Rebecca had no control of when the orderlies decided to drag her out of the solitary cell, but she despised arriving late to anything. Especially in a delicate situation such as this one. She wanted to make as good an impression as possible, given the circumstances.

The heavy door was opened and a bright surge of light assaulted her eyes. She closed them reflexively, opening them back slowly to allow them to adjust to the bothersome light. "Right on time gentlemen" She smirked at them "I'm pleased to see that you take your jobs seriously" she commented coolly.

Frank made a face of pure disgust at her "That's quite a cheery attitude for someone charged with murder." He lifted her up by one of the sleeves of the straightjacket.

"Self defense" Rebecca corrected. Several of the orderlies snorted at her response "Chopping up your husband into pieces to scatter them across the state and using his blood as paint for your art is hardly self defense. You are a monster" A guard sneered at her.

Rebecca was roughly turned around while Frank undid the buckles of the straightjacket. He quietly wondered how a woman with her small frame was capable of committing such a heinous crime. "That's my story and I'm sticking to it" she said firmly. She would not admit it but inside, she was afraid that the orderlies would strip her naked again and hose her down. Being so exposed in front of strangers had been a humiliating experience.

The straightjacket was taken off her and she took the opportunity to stretch out her arms and fingers for the first time since she was admitted. Her muscles violently protested in pain from the lack of use. Rebecca relished in the feeling of being able to wiggle out her fingers.

The pleasure was short lived as she was held by the orderlies and fitted into a contraption she had never seen before. It was a vest made out of handcuffs that pulled her wrists down her torso. Effectively immobilizing her upper body with sturdy leather straps.

"Six orderlies and a bondage contraption really?" She taunted them "All this commotion for little ol' me? I'm flattered that six _strong_ men are required to hold down a woman like myself" she said emphasizing the word '_strong_' with dripping sarcasm "I never thought I'd see the day" she finished with a wink.

"You bitch!" Another one of the orderlies raised his hand to slap her but she interjected "Don't you dare put your filthy hand on me! And stop manhandling me you brutes! Being an inmate doesn't entitle any of you to freebie feel up sessions."

Rebecca tried to compose herself and still the raging screams in her head "Now, let's go. We don't want to keep the good doctor waiting, do we?"


	2. Chapter 2

A/N: Yeah, short, but I decided to split the second chapter in two parts. Otherwise it would've been too long. Thanks for the review. I wasn't sure if it would be liked or not, so I appreciate it. I'll keep on with it :).

**Chapter 2:**

Oliver skimmed through the file for what seemed to be the twentieth time. Pages upon pages of photographs depicting the murder scene. A collage of crudely sliced body parts retrieved out of plastic bags, all belonged to the same victim: Richard Giles, a successful businessman from the Boston area. His head and hands were found preserved in jars at his wife's art studio. His now patient: Aven Rebecca Giles.

Honestly, Oliver didn't give a damn about the man's grisly demise. He flipped through the photos until he found the one that had piqued his interest : A large and vividly detailed painting of a young woman. She was naked and her hands had been tied up at her back. She swung upside down at the end of a cliff, suspended by a long thick rope and an enormous meat hook that had been inserted through her vagina. It's point protruded from her pubic bone. Two men stood at the top of the cliff, some good thirty feet above, holding the rope in place. They were smirking down at the scene below them while the woman cried out in massive agony.

Certainly a gruesome piece, yet it wasn't the detail that had him curious. It was the fact that the entire painting had been done by the victim's wife using his blood as paint.

He flipped the page again to find her records

**Patient Name: Aven Rebecca Giles (nee Blackwell) **  
**Date of Birth: August 12th, 1936 **  
**Age: 28**  
**Date Admitted: December 2nd, 1964 **  
**Sex: Female **  
**Civil Status: Widowed**  
**Spouse's name (if applicable): Richard Giles **  
**Spouse's D.O.B. (if applicable): February 6th, 1912**

_'A 24 year difference. Mr. Giles was a wealthy man, an inheritance could be a powerful motivation behind the murder'_

**Year of marriage: 1953**

**Father's name:**  
**Mother's name: **  
**Legal guardian's name: **  
**Reason of Admission: Homicide suspect**

The lack of parental information caught his attention. Had she been raised in the system, just like him? Oliver glanced at his patient's picture. She looked ravishing and full of life. Her blonde hair and light green eyes adding to her youthful appearance. Even in a picture, her skin was radiant and healthy. She didn't look like a murderer, in fact, she didn't really looked all that different from his previous victims. At the thought, he wondered how soft her skin would feel to the touch. His mind wasting no time in conjuring up images of that same skin being parted from its owner by his scalpel, red liquid flowing from the incision. He didn't realize that he was absently fondling the picture with his thumb.

_'Pull yourself together Thredson! All that work is behind you. You have Lana now, she's the one, my mommy. She understands you, she will love you unconditionally, just like a mother should love her child'_

He had dealt with some deeply disturbed individuals over the course of his career. But this would be the first time he'd ever work with someone who shared his...hobby.

Her artistic style was incredibly raw in content, some might even describe it as grotesque but in contrast, her technique was subtle and elegant. Each element of the drawing structure and brush stroke was obviously expertly and meticulously measured. The finesse shown in the painting clashed with the vulgar way the body had been cut up.

Whoever had sliced the body was in a hurry to get rid of it. The edges of the cuts indicated that they were done under an intensely emotional state. The whole thing lacked artistry, or maybe he should say that it was void of passion and purpose other than disposing of the body and hiding tracks. Very different from the painting. A part of him would be disappointed if it turned out to be a mere lover's spat that got out of hand.

"Already so intriguing and I haven't even met you yet. Who are you really Aven?"


End file.
